Egregious

It turns out the prophecies attained reality.
Or maybe we just didn't have faith where we had to.
There's this boiling feeling that shows its teeth when offenses are thrown. When the accelerator gets pushed. When thoughts of revenge make their way into the spolights.
All what was hidden suddenly seem to be all that matters. The bad sides overcome all positiveness. Those who accompanied slowly turned into shadows, commentaries darker than the view. They linger now. An expulsion that halves resistances. How can this last change feel so hard if all the previous ones took place so smoothly?
Albeit natural, it was shady. No fingers were pointed, no hearts were crossed. It came as clouds.
A rage perfected, a cruel diamond that forces pressure unto itself. 
Could it be halted? Is this the cycle of living things?
The notion of an ending punctures the thoughts. That would be a lost fight. The clock hands waited as much as they could, yet their efforts were in vain.
The rounds are now delimited clearly.
It starts with the silence. A state of waiting for nothing, for anything. Judging, wondering how deeper could we go.
Then comes the voices that scream for silence, for loneliness. A grave voice that moves away presences. Ready to go all-out on whatever decides to remain.
Finally, comes the tornado of guilt. It who finds someone to blame. Always on the center.


The question that dawns is...
Up on the hill of all that knowledge, high above all observation points. Do you fly?